Eye of the World: A homebrew campaign.

The waitress coming reminded Pip Squeak that she no longer had to live on scraps, she could get fresh food whenever she wanted. And the birdman was paying enough for everyone's meals. With her high squeaky voice, she asked for a small serving of the Chef's special.

Once the waitress left, she says, "Thank you for the ale and meal. I am called Pip Squeak. Pleased to meet you.!"

Pip Squeak is the range of small, but just barely at 2' tall, which is why she has to stand on the chair to reach the table. 

Caine states with genuine sorrow and remorse, "sorry...so very sorry...I deserve what ever you feel is right."

The "Chefs Special" turns out to be some form of a mushroom soup. 

As you start digging into your tasty, albeit small soup, the door to the tavern swings open with some force.

A pair of burly-looking dudes walk into the bar, and sit down at a table nearby you. There is a table in between you and the pair, so about 10 feet or so.  The waiter looks at the pair rolls her eyes, sighs, and goes to the table.

"Are these men troublesome?" Chokzay whispered to the waitress as she walked past. "I can take care of that too."

As the strangers are becoming acquaintances, a bald dwarf with a beautifully long, flowing red beard ambles around the room shaking his alms box at each table and calling, "Alms for the poor!" in a jolly voice. All deposited coins — no matter how small — receive a warm, "Clangeddin honors the hand that strengthens the clan. May your strength be returned when you need it most." or "May Clangeddin set your name among those who stood when others could not."

The cleric is nearby the newcomers' table when the burly-looking dudes sit down. He shakes his alms box in front of the two men. "Alms for the poor," the dwarf says brightly, looking at them expectantly.

Caine

Thanks the waitress for the soup, and digs in.

Quote from SpiraOfTheSeventhCircle >>

"Are these men troublesome?" Chokzay whispered to the waitress as she walked past. "I can take care of that too."

 She whispers back to you and replies "No, I'll be fine, mostly because they tip well." She walks over to them and takes their orders.

Quote from DirtyDogP >>

As the strangers are becoming acquaintances, a bald dwarf with a beautifully long, flowing red beard ambles around the room shaking his alms box at each table and calling, "Alms for the poor!" in a jolly voice. All deposited coins — no matter how small — receive a warm, "Clangeddin honors the hand that strengthens the clan. May your strength be returned when you need it most." or "May Clangeddin set your name among those who stood when others could not."

The cleric is nearby the newcomers' table when the burly-looking dudes sit down. He shakes his alms box in front of the two men. "Alms for the poor," the dwarf says brightly, looking at them expectantly.

 Ok, you gain 20 SP

Chokzay walks up to the dwarf and drops 5 silver pieces into his box. "You're a kind soul." he praises. "Are you collecting money for anything specific? Are there any other ways I could help your cause?"

After blessing the two men, Bhargus turns and is surprised to find Chokzay reaching out to deposit his own donation into the alms box. The cleric smiles. "Strength shared is strength multiplied. Clangeddin thanks you." He shakes the box again. "There are always those in need," the dwarf replies. He gives the aarakocra a quick appraisal. "You wouldn't happen to be an adventurer would you? I am but a humble holy man in service to his god looking for a band which I could fight alongside and minister to."

"Ah," hums Chokzay with a wistful look in his sunny yellow eyes. "I was...am also a spiritual man." He seemed troubled after saying that, but continued speaking normally. "Well, I'm not sure I'd call myself an adventurer. I'm just looking for a way to put my skills to use."  

The monk also had an alms box, but he kept it stowed away in his bag for now. Don't want to take money from people who truly need it, he thought. He wasn't too interested in talking religion with the man either- he knew ideological differences would likely keep them from becoming allies.

The waitress had been kind enough to bring Pip a small mug of ale, which Pip appreciated. She could drink from a full sized mug, but it's hard to handle a mug that's half your height! The shorter mug was much easier to handle.

As she was sipping her ale, Pip heard the generous bird man and the holy man talking. Hearing that the holy man was looking for someone to fight with, Pip chipped in, holding up a tiny fist, "I can fight!"

Caine, gives a thumbs up and a big grin to the nice fairy when he heard her speaking about fighting.

Insight roll (on character sheet): Nat 20!

Bhargus laughs as he perceives the feathered one's reticence to talk about religion. He slaps Chokzay on the arm. "Fear not. Clangeddin’s not jealous. He only asks who you stand with when the swords lock. If your god minds you walking beside a dwarf, that’s between the two of you — I’ll still hold the line."

Then, turning his smile on Pip, the dwarf admits, "I can't say I've ever fought with a fey before. What is your specialty? Blades? Arrows? Magic?"

Pip happily answers, "Fists and feet!"

Most monks would also include elbows and knees, but Pip's limbs were too short for those to be effective...

"I'm sure you're not to be underestimated," remarked Chokzay. "A small, fast-flying fighter that can easily move out of reach? Must be troublesome for your opponents." 

Pip is visibly pleased by the praise.

You look over to your left, seeing the men, now starting to get drunk, starting cursing and mumbling.

Smiling even more by these new acquaintances, Bhargus begins to address the others at their table when the two men's cursing draws his attention. He turns, his grin turning into a smile of appeasement. He pays closer attention to what the men are saying, trying to find out what has them riled up.

Insight: dirty 20

Chokzay ignores the men. One thing he didn't miss from his monastery days were the random drunks outside that begged for money. He did slide a few coins their way, but they would keep asking for more. The other monks would lambaste him for not being generous enough. Eventually he gave in and kept giving more without being asked, but he still held some contempt in his heart for the drunkards. This was as dirty a secret as if he had murdered the head priest in cold blood- one of the core tenets of the monastery was to completely purify the heart from hate.